Beating Hearts
by Eady of Old
Summary: They'd made attempts. But resuming the intimacy of married life was difficult for Anna and Bates, and each time they failed made it even more difficult to try again. Spoilers through S5E1


**Summary: **They'd made attempts. But resuming the intimacy of married life was difficult for Anna and Bates, and each time they failed made it even more difficult to try again. SPOILERS through S5E1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Downton Abbey or these characters.

**A/N: So I found this story mostly finished on my hard drive, dusted it off, and decided to post it. I began this after watching the preview of a scene from S5E1 that made me wonder if Anna and Bates were still struggling with intimacy after the S4 attack. While I now believe they managed to work through things well before the episode, this is my attempt to reconcile that earlier notion. Reviews, as always, are much appreciated. :)**

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><p>"I think we should just go through with it," she declared as she changed for bed, hanging up her black dress in the closet. When she turned around to see him sitting on his side of the bed, his night shirt gaping open in the front, he raised an eyebrow at her, understanding immediately what she meant.<p>

They'd made attempts already, in the nearly two years since Anna's attack. But each time they tried to resume the intimacy of a normal married couple, she would begun to shudder and draw away from him in fear and panic, as though she were reliving those horrifying moments all over again. Each time she reacted that way made it more difficult for them to try again, and months would pass between each such attempt.

He had not answered her and she circled around to her side of the bed. "Maybe I just need that push to get past it."

Her reasoning sounded feeble even to his ears, a poor excuse for something she'd been worrying about for far too long. While he'd assured her repeatedly that there was no hurry, that he expected nothing from her she was not yet ready to give, she still fretted about it. Anna grew more frustrated with herself as the months and now a year had passed, and he could see the feelings of self loathing and disappointment settling into her.

She said quietly, "Next time we try, I don't want you to stop for me. I want you to keep going."

He let the silence stretch out between them, not because he was considering her request, but because he wondered at her reason for it.

"You think I would ask that of you?" he demanded after a moment, taking a painful breath. "Do you really think that I would, so selfishly, ask you for that before you were ready?"

He squeezed his eyes closed, his expression one of internal agony.

"You have every right to ask it," she whispered in response, obviously aching for him. She reached out a hand to touch him, but he pulled away. "You deserve a wife who isn't broken."

"You aren't broken," Bates responded fiercely, "and I deserve _nothing_. And I certainly would never ask you for what you aren't prepared to give. Never means never, Anna. Not today. Not a year from today. Not ever."

She shook her head, tears appearing in her eyes. "Never is a very long time, John. And I've already made you wait-"

"You've _made _me wait?" he interrupted, his question a barely audible cry. He asked with dejection, "Have I been so insistent on this? Have I ever pushed you? Have I made these demands of you?"

Anna's eyes went wide as she realized he'd misunderstood her. "Of course not. Of course you would never..." She shook her head, trying to find the right words to express herself, to describe her shame at not fulfilling the obligations of their marriage.

But he could read it in her eyes just as clearly as if she'd spoken aloud.

"Please don't act as though you owe me something in this," he told her, his voice shaking with emotion. "You owe me nothing, nothing at all."

He could see that she believed it, that he put no demands on her. But she would not agree with his assessment.

"I'm your wife. I owe you what a wife owes her husband."

He shook his head, almost in disbelief, his breath dying in his chest as guilt momentarily seized his chest.

"Anna, you married me. You freed me from prison. You opened up my entire world. Before I met you, my life was empty. I was a shell, an empty husk of a man. You gave me back my life. You've given me so much. I would never ask you for more. If I've said something to make you believe otherwise, then I-"

"You shouldn't have to ask," Anna interrupted him, "and I hate myself for letting you believe that this is something we can live without in our marriage. Because it isn't - we both know that. And the longer we wait, the worse it will get."

John looked away, unable to bear the expression of mortification in her eyes. That she should feel herself lacking, as though she were a failure in some way... He despised himself for her beliefs, for being unable to dispel them from her mind, even now.

"I will not hurt you, not for something so appallingly selfish as a physical release I would rather give you than experience myself." He sighed, blinking back tears. "Anna... how I feel for you physically is part of my love for you, yes. But if I can never touch you again, if I can never _be with _you in that way, it will not diminish how I feel. Nothing can do that."

Strongly, she put in, "But we can be together. We just have to push through the hard part and-"

"And have me force you when you aren't ready?"

Agony flared through him at the notion of what she was suggesting, that he might _take _her even as her eyes closed tightly in anguish, her body rigid with terror as her mind took her back to that night. The very thought of it left him ill and disgusted. Nothing about that scenario appealed to him in the slightest, and he felt certain that he could not live with himself if they even attempted it. He would be as bad as her attacker and worse, for she would subject herself to such torture _willingly_, as some sort of sick proof of her love for him, as a devotion to her husband.

He wanted her, certainly. They had not really been together since before her attack, and that separation had occurred well over a year earlier. But he wanted her as a willing and enthusiastic participant, just as she'd been in the early days of their marriage. He wanted her to desire his touch, not to endure it as a favor or an obligation.

Her voice was unsteady but truthful as she said, "You could never force me, John. You always have my permission." Her own gaze drifted away to some invisible spot in the distance as she added, "The sad truth is that I might never be ready on my own. And I cannot bear the thought of us wasting more years waiting and hoping that it might get better for me if it won't."

"I can't imagine any time with you as wasted," he told her in complete seriousness. "Every moment in your company is precious, no matter how it is spent."

It was the truth. Even if he'd rather have his arms wrapped around her than playing cards in the servants' hall, he had long ago resolved himself to the notion that a life with Anna - any life with her - was the only thing he could ever want.

But her bottom lip quivered and she furiously blinked back tears. "Oh, Anna," he appealed, pulling her into his arms.

"But I can't keep you like this," she whispered in quiet desperation. "It isn't fair to keep you like this."

She went silent for several moments as he kept his arms securely around her as she leaned into him, one hand rubbing gently across her back. He swallowed heavily against his own tears as he tamped down on his emotions. He could never not hate himself for having failed to protect her, for his uselessness in preventing such grievous injury to his wife. But to know that even now he was a source of pain to Anna, that her thoughts of him brought her to such a state...

"Nothing about what happened is fair," Bates stated bleakly, "but all that matters to me is you. I can't pretend that I don't miss touching your body and bringing you pleasure, but I won't pervert what we've shared by bringing you pain instead. It is an insult to us both to suggest it for my sake or the sake of our marriage."

He'd caused her enough pain already, even if she would never admit it.

Sighed deeply before pulling her even more tightly against him, he relished the feel of her against him. He drew immense comfort from the simple contact and hoped that he gave it just as equally. Thankfully, she did not tense in his arms, but rather held on to him for dear life. It was enough just to hold her, a pleasure denied to them all the time he was in prison. It was more than he ever thought he'd be allowed.

After minutes passed with Anna fighting back anxious sniffles, she said softly, "And what about us having a family?"

Truthfully, he considered that issue quite often. While Anna was still a young woman in his eyes, they both knew that as the years passed, she would soon be too old to have children. Guilt at the thought of those many months that they'd lost while he was in prison threatened to engulf him. And to think that now his failure to protect her might cost them not just the agonies which she'd been living with, but perhaps even the children they'd talked about...

"I won't deny that I haven't given up on that dream for us. But you will always be my family," he told her sincerely, "whether we have children or not."

He could feel her shift in his arms, and he instantly let his hold go slack in case she wished to pull away. While it hurt to let her go, to lose her warmth and her touch, he was physically incapable of imprisoning her against her will. And in that moment, he knew what he'd always known. He simply could not touch her the way she was suggesting, not like that. Not with her body trembling in fear and her breath coming in gasps as her eyes saw someone else. Even with her permission, it would be unconscionable, and he was not sure he could muster himself to perform in such circumstances anyway.

"I always wanted to have your baby," Anna said sadly. "I always thought there would be time. And now, I'm the one who is wasting what little we have left."

Shaking his head, Bates told her, "You aren't wasting anything. _You _are what matters to me, more than anything. And if we are destined to have children, then we will. But there is no reason to push yourself so hard. I won't..." He sighed, trying to bring himself to say the words. "I won't... touch you, until you are ready. Not until you can be in the moment and know who I am and want me there."

She met his eyes, and in them he could see a lifetime's worth of unshed tears.

"I feel as though I've made you give up so much," she said. "The trip to America, our marital life, and now even children. Why should you be punished so? Why must I push my pain off onto you and force you to suffer alongside me?"

He took her hands in his, looking down at her tiny fingers engulfed by his much larger ones, before meeting her gaze once more. "There is no place I would rather be than at your side. To be elsewhere would be a greater punishment than I could ever bear."

The dams burst, and the tears in her eyes finally came forth. She'd held them back for so long, that it seemed a relief to finally let them go.

She gave him a weak smile, making no move to wipe away the tears, and Bates reached out to her. He cleared away the moisture on her face using his the pads of his thumbs, but more tears spilled to replace the ones he'd dried. Giving her a shy smile, he instead intertwined their fingers. "Rest down," he coaxed her. "We both need to sleep."

Nodding silently, she settled down beside him in bed and he turned out the lamp on the side table, casting them into darkness. Neither spoke for some time, but each sensed that the other was not yet asleep.

"I'm sorry I upset you by what I said earlier," he said into the black, already regretting the teasing words he'd spoken, the ones which she'd obviously taken far more to heart than he'd intended.

"You have every right to your feelings," she answered quietly. "I'm sorry this is so difficult for me."

"Perhaps we can try again... but this time, we can start slow?" he suggested. As if to demonstrate his point, he reached out his hand to touch her shoulder. She started at his sudden touch, but quickly relaxed as he reminded her, "It's me. It is only me."

"I know."

His hand slid down her shoulder, along her bare arm and the skin made available to him by her short sleeved night gown. Repeating the movement several times, Bates allowed her to get used to the contact before moving on to another place on her body.

Over the next half hour, he indulged in simple touches, letting the darkness mask her initial reactions of either fear or disgust, the ones he could not bear in the full light of the room. He coaxed her to speak, to tell him what she was feeling, and in letting her hear his voice, he could likewise feel her relaxing despite herself.

When he finally felt brave enough to touch her more intimately, beyond her shoulders or waist or the fabric-covered expanse of her flat stomach, Bates hesitated. Seconds ticked by as he wondered whether he was pushing her too far. He could not see her face to know if he was pushing her into a flashback, and suddenly, he needed that reassurance. The fear of hurting her was too great to risk causing her such anguish.

But wordlessly, his wife reached out her tiny hand to take his. She must have sensed where he wanted to touch her and why he hadn't yet because she pulled his palm into the softness of her breast. Bates shuddered at the feel of her, a pebble of flesh tickling the center of his hand through the fabric of her nightgown, likely in reaction to his very touch. Anna sighed softly and he attempted to pull away uncertainly, but she kept him anchored in place.

"Anna..." he began, but could not find the words.

In response, he felt her move slightly on the bed next to him, and a moment later, she readjusted his touch and the soft fabric which separated him from her bare skin was gone. She placed his hand on her once more, and the sensuality of touching her bare breast nearly left him undone.

"Is this all right?" he asked her, struggling to control his growing desire for her. Just this touch had left her frozen in fear in the past when they'd attempted to be together.

Anna answered with a simple, "Yes."

"May I kiss you?"

Her response was to move closer to him on the bed and find his lips in the dark. And as they collided, the kiss was no chaste peck they might share in a stolen moment outside the servants' hall. It betrayed far more of the desire he'd been quelling for the past two years than he anticipated. And the heat between them was not only of his making, but also of hers.

Anna shifted closer to him, her hand leaving his in place as it moved between them, down along the fabric of his nightshirt. By the time he understood her purpose, she was already pressing against him, his desire for her apparent. Pausing at the physical manifestation of his reaction to her, she briefly broke the kiss.

Bates made no attempt to pull away from her. If they were to be intimate again, this would be part of their journey. But he did not push into her, did not show any sort of insistence, despite his growing need.

When she'd been still for several moments, he reached down for her hand and bright it back up between them. "Not yet," he said, his voice low and rough. "Nothing needs to come of it tonight."

While Bates could not see her face, he heard the slight sigh of relief escape her throat along with a deeply held breath. He would not push her, would not make her go further than she was ready. And in turn, she did not try to escape from him. She was not shaking in fear. And it was an improvement over their last attempt at being together like this. Replacing his hand on her breast, he resumed kissing her, an activity he could tell she had been enjoying before attempting to move their encounter further. And this time, she more fully relaxed into the encounter as their lips met in the dark, tongues exploring and dueling with no other cares.

When she moved his hand lower on her body, pressing his fingers into her skin, Bates did not resist her. But he kept his touch gentle, applying pressure as he knew she would like it, her preferences still as familiar to him as though there had been no break in their bedroom activities. Anna groaned and arched into him and he delighted in her reaction.

But a moment later, she stiffened again and Bates stopped.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

She was quiet for a moment but finally confessed, "I want to see you. I can't do this in the dark."

Lighting a lamp was easily accomplished, and as the glass-encased flame illuminated their small bedroom, Bates recognized the relief in Anna's eyes. He settled back into the bed beside her and she moved to cover his body with her own. Without preamble, she resumed kissing him, periodically stopping just to look at his face, as though to reassure herself that he was still there. The man beneath her was still her husband, her beloved husband, the man she wanted to make love with.

And they did make love. Bates let her initiate each step of the intimacy, from the removal of clothes to deep kisses and gentle yet impassioned caresses. As on their wedding night, he let her have her way with him, never asking for more than she was prepared to give. And in return, Anna gave him everything, inch by inch, slowly and at her own pace. They spent hours rediscovering each other, letting the lamp burn low and the hour grow very late before finally falling asleep in a satisfied tangle of sweaty limbs, beating hearts, and shuddering breaths.

_fin_


End file.
